Warrior Soul
by Silksteel
Summary: In the aftermath of betrayal, everyone needs an ally. Kel and Neal's friendship has outlasted time and conflict, but will love finally break them? Major K/N shippage *Temporary Hiatus*
1. End of Worlds

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Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Tamora Pierce. The song "End it on this" is by No Doubt.

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A/N: Well, I'm using a bit of artistic license for this story, simply because it's convenient. Set a few weeks before the Squires face their Ordeals. Events of 'Squire' have been changed considerably but will only be mentioned in passing, so I guess you could say this was an AU fic.

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End of Worlds

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She could have been made of stone, Raoul thought sadly as he watched his Squire ride into the courtyard, straight backed on Peachblossom who seemed to realise his rider's sombre mood. It was a marked difference from the cheerful girl who had left the court with him not six months previously, and a lot had taken place since then. A final bandit raid on a village not far from Corus had lost them five men and over double that in villagers. The heaviest toll, however, had been taken on Kel herself, not in terms of injuries - though one arm was in a sling and numerous half-healed cuts marked her body - but within her own mind, Raoul knew that she blamed it on herself.

At long last they were home. It had been a long time, and he was impatient to see Buri again. First though, he had more important matters to deal with, "Kel!" he called as she walked Peachblossom towards the stables, waiting for her to turn before he continued, "Let Stefan take care of your horse - I wish to speak to you," Kel nodded, her face carefully blank, and handed over her reins. 

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The door of his study swung open and Kel walked in, shutting it quietly behind her. She said nothing, merely waited for him to speak. Raoul gestured to a chair with a ineffectual half-smile. He doubted that his Squire would be interested in formalities and decided to come straight to the point, "Kel, I think you should take the week off," her head snapped up and she stared at him, grief-dulled hazel eyes widening, first in surprise and then in anger. Opening her mouth to protest, Raoul held up a hand, "No, listen to me - you need time to yourself before we have to leave again. Practice your weapons, go into the city, whatever you wish. At the end of the week is the Royal ball to welcome some minor nobles from Carthak, I want you to attend," his tone was firm and incontestable.

"Sir, I always do," Kel said wearily, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Not as my Squire this time. Have Lalasa provide something suitable for a Lady of the court," shoulders slumping in dismay, Kel muttered her ascent. Raoul felt ill - this sort of announcement would never had have brooked so lacklustre a response in Kel normally. No argument, no protestation, nothing.

A blink later, his door shut with a click and Kel disappeared into her adjoining chambers. 

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Kel sat down hard on her bed, sparrows flocking around her as if they knew something was wrong. She could let Raoul think whatever he wished about the bandit raid, and even about Hoshi's death as the cause of her current state. It mattered nothing to her. Slowly, she drew a letter out of her pocket, unfolding its crumpled, tearstained pages with shaking hands. She had read it a million times and the words never said anything different. "Why, Cleon?" Kel whispered to the chilling air.

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You see in the past,  
I had a dream 

They knew that this would happen - Cleon had told her that he was betrothed, but he had also given her reason to hope that maybe they could be married. She had hoped…he was so sincere, like he truly wanted to spend his life with her. Kel. The Yamani Lump.

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A fantasy 

That was all it seemed to be - a wonderful dream, a fantasy. Ermelian was a real lady; likely a beauty as the ones at court. _She probably has dimples_. Kel thought hatefully, ripping up the letter with trembling fingers and letting the fragments slip from her grasp to dance among swirling golden dust motes as they drifted to the floor.

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I thought that we would last,   
Become a little family 

Cleon had wanted children - she knew it as soon as they visited Mindelan, how well he got on with her younger cousins and the way he looked at her. No matter, he would have his family, but it would not be with Kel.

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Then one, two, three, four,   
The months were flying by,  
They soared

The progress had ended so soon, too soon for she had to return to the palace, and Cleon to his flagging fortune at Kennan. Floods had ruined the crop. Their people would starve without Ermelian's dowry. That, Kel could understand, but the letter had hurt her worst of all. He truly sounded as if he loved his betrothed, as he had once loved Kel.

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And it's my gut feeling   
It's not happening for me, so... 

Or had he? Uncharacteristic anger welled up in her heart, and standing abruptly, Kel grabbed the glaive that had been deposited in her room with the rest of her luggage. The chambers were far too small for what she had planned, so she strode to the door and yanked it open, ignoring Jump's whine of anxiety. 

Let's end it on this

The practice courts were mercifully empty - Kel couldn't bear to see pity in another of her friend's eyes. None of them knew what was wrong, though she was sure that they would soon enough. Shedding the sling from her arm that she deemed unnecessary, Kel stretched out stiff muscles and prepared to begin.

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Give me one more kiss,   
Let's end it on this 

Blue steel whirled in deadly arcs as she swung the glaive in a complicated pattern - _twist, half turn, over arm, switch hands, block, slash, spin - _using her rage as energy to fuel her tired body. They been on the road for days without rest or shelter, and it had taken it's toll on Kel.

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Let's end it on this 

"I could watch you dance with that over-sized spear all day," said a dry, teasing voice from behind her. Kel froze. Of all the people she hadn't wanted to meet, Neal was at the top of her list. He knew when something wasn't right. When she was lying to him. 

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You see it's hard to face 

Slowly, she turned around, keeping her expression as neutral as she could. Neal smirked, leaning against the doorframe, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword, "It's been a while, Mindelan," he drawled, raising an eyebrow at Kel who inwardly cursed him. All the feelings that she thought had vanished during her years with the Own had returned, with - if it was even possible - more force than before.

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The addict that's inside of me 

"Too long, Queenscove, far too long," she answered finally, voice surprisingly calm considering the circumstances. Neal grinned, losing all trace of his composed demeanour as he bounded over and threw his arms around her.

"Gods I've missed you," he whispered, pulling away after a minute to look at her. Kel winced as he ran a finger down her cheek where a particularly nasty scratch traced the line of her jaw. It had been inflicted by the dagger of a man she later killed, and the healer had done her best to repair the skin, though she had very little training, save to stop infection from spreading through her blood.

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I want to fill my glass up   
With you constantly 

Cool green fire streamed from his finger tips and instantly Kel felt the pain disappear, "Thanks," she mumbled, eyes turned to the ground in discomfort. She didn't like him being so close to her, it only reminded her even more that she and Cleon were over. Neal, however, had noticed her strange behaviour, and lifted her chin until their eyes met, emeralds scrutinising her face for some clue.

"Kel, is there something wrong?" there was worry in his voice, and he still hadn't dropped his hand. She bit the inside of her lip - it would be so nice just to tell him everything, let him comfort her as she knew he would do. But no. It wasn't his problem, and Kel didn't want his sympathy.

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I've been here before,   
But I've never ever felt this sure 

"No, nothing. I'm glad you're back," she smiled weakly up at him, marvelling at how tall he was now - nearly a head over six feet - and changed the subject before he could protest, "So, how is the Lioness?"

Neal groaned theatrically and let her go, "The same tyrannical slave master that we all know and love. I was hoping she'd lose her voice from all the shouting she's been doing recently, but it was a futile dream. Listen, Kel -"

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And now I know I've been dreaming,   
And your actions   
Have inspired me, so... 

  
She knew what he was going to say, but it didn't mean she wanted to hear it, "And Yuki? How is she?" instantly, she regretted having spoken at all. Kel would sooner bite out her own tongue than hurt him with her words.

Neal's face fell and he looked away, muttering, "I don't know. I haven't heard from her since she left for the Islands," 

"W-what? Why?"

He sighed and ran a large, bony hand through his hair - it was getting too long, Kel noticed. 

"We had an argument - well, we were always disagreeing over something - it just got too serious. She decided to go home for a while, but she'll be back for the Ordeals,"

Kel reached out and - against her better judgement - grasped his hand, "I'm sorry, Neal," she murmured as he shook his head.

"Don't be. I think that in the end, we were too similar for it work."

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Let's end it on this,   
Give me one more kiss 

Kel knew a dismissal when she heard one, so she backed up and retrieved her glaive from where she had set it earlier. She knew that she ought to feel regret for him, but selfish glee overrode that obligation, and it was all Kel could do to keep the ecstatic grin from her face.

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Just one more wish,   
Let's end it on this   


A wave of horror washed over her at the thought. It was only a few minutes since she had been so distraught over Cleon, and now…

She was becoming as despicable as the ladies who simpered and sighed over one man, only to fall in love with another not two days later. Were all females as fickle-hearted as she? Kel wondered, not daring to look at her friend for the shame he might see in her expression. No, she did not love Neal, and he would never think of her as more than a best friend. But at least it proved one thing - she had never truly loved Cleon in the first place.

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It's over   


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So, what do you think? Should I continue, or was it too hideous for words? Drop me a review!


	2. Inspiring Admittances

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A/N: *is awed* wow…I don't think I've ever gotten this many reviews for a first chapter before…Thank you everybody, you guys rock the knee-high, multi-coloured, stripy socks (and I can give no higher praise than that!)

Well, this chapter was _meant _to have a song, unfortunately I couldn't find one that wasn't either really mushy, or required me to completely change the events. Oh well *shrugs* no real loss there. Anyway, I decided to make it from Neal's PoV as a bit of a challenge for myself, so here are the results…

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**Inspiring Admittances **

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Even if he hadn't known Kel for nearly eight years, Neal would still have realised that something was wrong. She had on what he had come to call her 'Yamani face' - when her features went blank and smooth as marble. 

"Kel?"

"Just leave it, Neal, please," she pleaded, looking anywhere but at him.

"Is it about the Ordeal? Are you scared?" cursing himself for seven kinds of an idiot, he looked heavenward and prayed that Kel didn't think he was mocking her. 

She chewed on her bottom lip, appearing to give the question some serious thought, "Yes," she murmured finally. "I keep wondering if maybe I should do what everyone advised in the first place - turn tail and run home."

Eyes widening, Neal stared at his friend for a few seconds before she looked away, fingers drumming nervously on the wooden haft of her glaive. "You can't!" He exclaimed when he'd found his voice again. "You'd be letting them win! And…and what about me? Would you abandon me now, after all we've been through to get here?" familiar panic coursed through him. The scene was reminiscent of a similar one four years previously, when Kel had been willing to throw away all of her page training just to find Lalasa.

Kel smiled and shook her head. "No, of course I wouldn't. You don't get rid of me that easily," 

Grinning, Neal offered her his arm, hoping that his relief wasn't evident on his face. For all that Kel was five years younger than him, they had always been close and he admired her. "Well then, my Lady, shall we adjourn to the mess hall?"

They weren't more than halfway to the door before two knights entered the practice court. Neal sighed inwardly. Zahir and Garvey, _just _the people he wanted to see. Kel seemed unconcerned by their presence and carried on towards the exit, passing Zahir who gave them both a curt nod and unsheathed his sword to begin warming up. His companion however, stopped short in front of Kel and forced her to halt, a cruel smirk twisting his face as he looked at their linked arms. "What happened? Did that red-haired oaf decide to make some money for himself by hiring you out to his friends?" A snarl bubbled up in the back of Neal's throat, but before he could say anything, Garvey had turned to him. "Tell me, Queenscove, do you recommend her?"

Only the steel-like grip of Kel's fingers on his arm stopped him lunging for Garvey. _How dare he say that about her!_ Neal thought furiously, looking down at his friend. Kel's face was a placid mask that gave away none of the feelings she may have had about Garvey's remarks. The coldest smile that he had ever seen on another person graced her features after a moment, and without warning, Kel whipped the iron-shod foot of her glaive upwards, thereby lessening the chances of Garvey ever polluting Tortall with his spawn. _Not that his chances need lessening, _thought Neal wryly, watching with grim satisfaction as Garvey's pock-marked face crumpled and he slid to the floor with a strangled whine.

Kel turned to him, eyes dark with fury. "Don't even start." he eyed the glaive that she still held, and then Garvey who lay in a shivering ball at her feet and shook his head.

"I wouldn't dream of it," Neal answered vehemently. He was troubled; since when did Kel use violence to solve problems? Yes, she had gotten into fights with Garvey and his clique back when they were pages, but she'd never _started_ them herself. The outright enmity should have ended with Joren's death, but evidently it hadn't.

Garvey was still prone when Zahir paused mid-stroke to nudge his companion with the toe of his boot. "You should see a healer," he said without compassion, apparently more interested in the blade of his sword than his friend, "and a trip to Oakbridge wouldn't go amiss, so that he may drill manners and etiquette into you again, as you evidently didn't understand the first time round."

Silence reigned, and Neal was sure that his expression was identical to those of Kel and Garvey as they stared at the regal Bazhir in disbelief. Zahir didn't seem to notice, being so occupied as his was, testing the balance of his sword and adjusting his grip on the hilt. After a moment, realising that Garvey was still glaring up at him, Zahir bent down and pulled the other man to his feet, giving him a shove in the direction of the doorway.

When at last Garvey had limped out with an air of bitter dejection, the Bazhir turned on Kel and Neal, the latter of whom resisted the urge to grasp his sword hilt. Even now, Neal didn't trust anyone who had been allied with Joren, not after what happened on Balor's Needle. He watched as Zahir inspected Kel. He seemed to approve and offered, "Will you spar with me, Mindelan?" Neal's hackles rose - was this a trick? Zahir didn't seem to be moving towards the practice swords - he intended to use live blades!

Kel's face was impassive as she answered calmly of the affirmative, before looking up at him "Neal, you go to lunch, I'm not really hungry. See you later?" he could see the pleading in her eyes - this was her one chance to prove to Zahir that she was worthy of a shield, and he could not take that away from her.

"Just so you know," he whispered in her ear, making sure that the Bazhir couldn't hear what he said, "I shall be extremely vexed if I have to kill him for injuring you."

Kel laughed and made a shooing motion as she settled into the 'guard' position. "Away with you, Queenscove, I need to concentrate."

Neal left, albeit reluctantly. It frustrated him, how Kel, who could easily pass up similar tests with proven knights of more status than Zahir, could not refuse a spar which was clearly a trick. He had half a mind to turn back to the court and watch them, just to make sure. 

Blinking, he entered the mess hall and went for a tray. This surge of protectiveness scared him - since when had he worried about _Kel_? She was as good as - if not better than - any of their year mates at the fighting arts _and_ she could keep up with a whole company of the King's Own. _Why then, are you so anxious?_ Asked a cold, logical part of his mind. "Let's call it an irrational fear of losing my best friend, shall we?" he muttered to himself as he picked up a set of cutlery. 

"Talking to yourself again, cousin?" said a teasing voice from behind him. Neal started and looked over his shoulder.

"Dom! I didn't know you were back," 

Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle chuckled and cuffed him about the head lightly. "Of course I am - the Company's here for Kel's Ordeal. I don't think Sir Raoul wanted to winter in the palace, especially with the Midwinter Ball looming, but he doesn't get a choice."

"All the better for you then, cousin? The ladies of the court can't seem to resist the King's Own uniforms." Neal remarked dryly, setting his tray down across from Dom's and sinking onto the bench.

Laughing, Dom shook his head, "There is only one lady I wish to impress, and I very much doubt she will be so simply by a uniform." Neal saw a misty, far-away look in Dom's blue eyes, before his cousin looked back down at his soup, a slight blush rising in his cheeks.

Neal gaped at him for a moment, before a slow grin spread across his sharp-boned features. "So, who is she?" he waited as Dom fidgeted nervously, shredding a roll with fingers that shook slightly.

"Is she someone at court?" Neal prodded, unnerved by his cousin's uncharacteristic edginess.

"You could say that," mumbled Dom, swallowing hard and looking at him with a guilt-filled gaze. Neal closed his eyes, clenching his jaw, knowing that if he said anything now, he would probably have to apologise for it later, and Neal hated apologies. 

Nevertheless, he whispered through gritted teeth. "And does this lady feel the same?"

"I don't know," admitted his cousin in a slightly forlorn tone, "I don't think she even knows…" his sentence trailed off and they sat in awkward silence for a moment, until Neal opened his eyes.

"She's so young, the age difference…"

"You don't think I know that?" Dom snapped, glaring at him. "I didn't mean for this to happen, you know. I didn't mean to fa -" he stopped and clamped his mouth shut, staring wide-eyed at Neal.

A wave of hatred and anger washed over Neal as he looked at his cousin. _Cradle-snatcher_, his less charitable self muttered, and to his great shame, Neal agreed with it. Suddenly feeling very weary, he asked, "I don't suppose you know what's bothering her, do you?"

Dom nodded, giving him an odd look at the same time. "She didn't tell you? There was a bandit raid on a village near Owlshollow, on the way back. Kel and two of the others were put in charge of a group of villagers who had weapons. They cleared out the mill and a few of the houses but got ambushed by a group of archers and axe men - five to one odds - away from the rest of the company." he twisted a ring on his right hand, eyes overly bright, "They didn't stand a chance. Kel, Lerant and five villagers made it out alive - ten dead altogether, and that mare of Kel's, Hoshi, one of the axes took her out." Neal winced - he knew Kel's attachment to all of her animals.

Sighing, Dom rose and picked up his tray, "She hasn't been herself this past week. I hope she recovers in time for the Ordeal - she'll need all her strength to get through that." Neal privately agreed, though he didn't tell his cousin. This information certainly explained the haunted look in her hazel eyes, and he was hurt that she didn't tell him in the first place. But then, that was Kel, always thinking she could solve the world's problems by herself. Neal smiled with rueful affection and stood up, thinking that it was time he rescued her from the Bazhir. Rather disturbingly, this inspired an image of Kel as a damsel in distress and he as the chivalrous knight come to save the fair lady. Looking down at the half-finished bowl of vegetable soup on his tray, Neal narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Whether potatoes and miscellaneous green matter constituted to seeing visions, he didn't know, but it had to be more plausible than his own mind dreaming up such nonsense.

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Questions? Comments? Insults more commonly used by soldiers and sailors? Review!

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	3. Cornered

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Disclaimer: Everything you recognise is Tamora Pierce's except for the song which is 'I Can't Break Down' (first verse and part chorus) by Sinead Quinn.

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A/N: As always, thanks to the reviewers, and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

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Min - I always wanted him to be redeemed in some way and when the opportunity arose *grins* it only has a tiny bearing on the story, but hey, I just wanted it there.

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Rose - Don't worry, I have something very special planned for our dear Sergeant!

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Kenta Divina - Yes, I thought it would be more effective to show both sides of the story, especially as I wanted to have some scenes that Kel doesn't witness.

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Chad - Do be quiet. You knew I was working on it *sticks tongue out* and don't sully my review box with your disgraceful language!

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Cornered

Zahir ibn Alhaz was undoubtedly one of the best swordsmen at court. As a result of this, Kel knew she would lose before she even agreed to the duel, and lose she did, though it was a near victory for her opponent.

There was a minute during which hazel eyes met black, both acutely aware of the sword point that rested lightly against the bare skin of Kel's throat. Then, Zahir sheathed his sword and held out a hand to her. "You are a worthy opponent, Keladry." they clasped forearms, and Kel knew that this regal, aloof man accepted her at last. She had never tried to win his praise in any way, but if someone so utterly against the idea of Lady Knights honoured her as worthy, then it was possible that others might. At least, that was what she could hope.

She was collecting her sword where it had fallen after Zahir disarmed her, when Neal strolled in. "Who won?" he asked casually, picking up her glaive.

Kel shrugged and pointed, wincing slightly as the re-opened wound in her back pulled again. She'd had problems with it since the bandit raid, and sword fighting just made it worse. 

Neal's mouth flattened to a grim line and he turned her around, probing at the wound with gentle fingers. "You're bleeding," he murmured quietly, and Kel wondered if he noticed how tense she was.

"I know - it's an old wound." she hoped that he didn't think Zahir was responsible for it - the last thing she wanted was Neal challenging him!

"Your room, now." Neal ordered, withholding the glaive as if he believed her too weak to carry it. She raised her eyebrows at him, and to her shock, saw him turn a dull crimson.

"That sounded like a proposition…sorry," he muttered awkwardly. Kel knew that she was openly staring, but couldn't help it. Neal was acting strangely - even for him. What was going on? Mentally shrugging, she wandered away, not bothering to look back to see if he was following her.

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Neal shut the door firmly behind him, apparently forgetting about Lord Wyldon's rule against it, but Kel thought better of protesting. She suspected that the Stump would object more if he found out about this healing.

"Take your shirt off and sit down." this time, he turned a rather impressive shade of scarlet and put a hand over his eyes whilst Kel gaped, slightly bemused. Second time in as many minutes! Eventually, he continued in a world-weary voice. "This situation just gets worse. What I _meant_ to say was: Kindly remove your shirt so I may inspect your cut."

Kel laughed quietly, partly in embarrassment and partly because she had never seen Neal lose his composure as spectacularly. She slid the sweat-soaked shirt down her shoulders, biting down on her lower lip as the material snagged on her raw skin. Neal drew in a horrified breath, and Kel heard him swear softly.

"How did this happen?"

"I couldn't get my back to a wall in time," she answered noncommittally, biting back a sigh of relief as cool magic drew the pain from the jagged scar that paralleled her spine from shoulder to waist.

"Would this be in the bandit raid that you neglected to mention?" Neal's voice was accusing and she craned her neck to look at him.

"Dom told you, didn't he?" 

His face became unreadable and he fixed his eyes on her back, every thread of concentration going into his magic. "He shouldn't have had to,"

"Neal, I -"

"No secrets." he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Kel nodded, guilt flooding her, and echoed her agreement.

A sudden knock disturbed the uncomfortable silence and the door swung open before either of them had time to react. "Well…this is cosy," said a harsh, familiar voice. Kel's heart sank and shrugging Neal's hands away, she pulled on her shirt and turned around.

Now I know I can handle this

The tall, redheaded knight leaned against the doorjamb, eyebrows raised sardonically as a stormy grey gaze swept over what Kel knew to be an extremely compromising position. Neal shifted, and she allowed her eyes to stray to him. He was hunched over his knees, staring guiltily at Cleon, and for a moment Kel wondered what it was that he had to look guilty about - it was hardly like their friend would object to the healing! Unless…inwardly she cringed - what if Cleon thought that they…?

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I'll close my mouth and clench my fist

Kel balled her right hand and bit down on the knuckles nervously. As of yet, none of them had said anything. However, Cleon began to smile tightly. "Neal," he said darkly, with the merest nod towards his friend before he looked at Kel. She squirmed, despite her iron resolve not to show how edgy Cleon made her. He was even more handsome than the last time she saw him, if that was possible when covered in dust from the road. 

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I've lived this day in a thousand ways

Although she knew she would have to face him at some point, Kel had never imagined that she would have a witness. Neal didn't seem to have any intention of leaving, and to be truthful Kel didn't want him to. In battle, when a warrior lost or broke their shield, it was usual - if not entirely honourable - to use the body of an enemy as a human shield in its stead. Is that what she had been reduced to? Using her best friend as a shield to deflect her ex-lover's scathing remarks? 

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But there's a flaw to add to my list

"I trust you are well?" he asked, voice quiet and the anger bright in his eyes. Kel's annoyance rose, as did Neal's, apparently.

"Does she look well?" he snarled, gesturing at the scar tissue on Kel's cheek. "Don't look at Kel like she's done something wrong because she hasn't! Did you not see the scar on her back? And do you really think Lord Wyldon would have let her get it healed?" Kel shot to her feet after her best friend who seemed to be on the verge of lunging at Cleon.

Cleon himself raised his hands defensively. "I didn't say anything!" 

"You didn't need to," Neal growled, folding his arms over his chest, "the accusation was obvious. And anyway, you should know us better than that."

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Go on squeeze a little more

Kel felt the blush start somewhere in the region of her ankles and begin to work it's way up. No, Cleon might know that _Neal_ would be far too honourable to do such a thing, but as her internal dilemma earlier that morning had proved, she had a fickle heart.

Coughing embarrassedly, Cleon turned to her. "Kel, I'm sorry…I just…well, you know how it looked…"

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If you scream I'll just ignore you

She nodded silently, wondering whether Cleon's betrothed would be sorry if she just killed him now. It wasn't like he had any right to say who she may or may not court now that they weren't together anymore.

"So," began Neal to break the atmosphere that had developed, "how is it you're back from Kennan so early?"

"There was really very little I could do that mother hadn't already taken care of, and we had to return for the Ordeals in any case," Cleon grinned mischievously at them.

Neal groaned. "Thanks for reminding me. But…" the edge of his lip curled into a smirk, "who's 'we'?"

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Oh no…not… Kel prayed to the Yamani gods that Cleon didn't mean who she thought he meant. Cleon's eyes widened and said quickly - "That reminds me - there's someone I want you both to meet," he rushed out of the room and they heard his footsteps echo away down the hall.

Meanwhile, Kel hurriedly buttoned up her shirt and dragged a comb through her hair in an effort to make herself look more presentable.

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I've rehearsed this scene in a million dreams

"Kel, Neal, I'd like you to meet Ermelian of Aminar," he said somewhat breathlessly, "Lian, this is Keladry of Mindelan - remember the one I told you about - and Nealan of Queenscove." Cleon was beaming his arm around the woman that Kel had dreaded meeting since she received his letter some weeks previously.

Ermelian of Aminar was everything that Kel was not. Her ringlets of blonde hair cascaded down her back, and she regarded Neal and Kel with bright blue eyes. She also had _dimples_. Of course Kel could never compare to this vision of beauty! 

Inexplicably, Neal looked rather unimpressed - Kel would have expected him to be already composing one of his dreadful poems about Lady Ermelian's flaxen hair, or her sylph-like figure.

As she curtseyed politely, Ermelian smiled at Kel. "Keladry, I have heard so much about you,"

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You're getting closer to my core

"R-really?" she glared briefly at Cleon who didn't appear to notice, staring as he was, at his betrothed.

"Oh yes, Cleon told me about your quest to stop the hazing of younger pages and of how you jousted with full knights this summer! I have to say, it all sounds terribly exciting."

"It has it's moments." Kel replied dryly, observing Ermelian's perpetual smile fade at her lack of enthusiasm. "I'm sorry, Lady Ermelian, Cleon, I have rather a lot of work to finish before dinner,"

"Oh! Of course! We won't detain you any longer, Keladry," exclaimed Ermelian, digging her elbow into Cleon's ribs, "It was very nice to meet you both."

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I'm so damn frustrated,  
Losing breath and now I'm shaking

They left the door open this time, and Kel flopped down onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. Gentle pressure on her shoulders reminded her that Neal was still there, and she looked up at him.

"Another thing you forgot to mention?"

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Got to keep myself from breaking down,

Someone get me out

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to pull back from his touch, but he didn't let her go. Kel had forgotten quite how strong he was. "It wasn't anything to do with anyone but Cleon and me." she said shortly, wishing that he would just drop the subject.

"Don't you trust me? Is that it?"

She stared at him incredulously. How could he think that? Just because she hadn't felt like telling him everything didn't mean that she didn't trust him. Kel told him so.

Neal sighed and knelt down so that his face was level with hers. "I wish you would let me help you. Or will your Yamani training not even let you do that?"

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Tear don't you fall,  
Eyes don't you cry

She was so tired, and everything was just too much right now. The concern she saw on Neal's face scared her as it warmed her. Why was he being like this? Why couldn't he just leave her alone? In a moment Kel would start to cry and not even her Yamani mask could hide that. She didn't want her friend to see her weaken so.

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While I'm open and you can read me  
I can't break down, break down

"Please leave, Neal," Kel implored, beginning to tremble from exhaustion that the healing brought on, and fighting the tears that threatened to well in her eyes.

He looked so betrayed. In that instant, she hated herself even as Neal stood up and walked away.

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Good? Bad? Non-descript? It's another plea for reviews…

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	4. Retribution

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Disclaimer: The good stuff belongs to the Queen of fantasy - Tamora Pierce. The song is "Just For" by Nickelback and I strongly suggest you listen to it whilst reading this chapter - I did. It just captures Neal's mood perfectly. 

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A/N: Well…uh, this chapter didn't quite turn out like expected. It's sweet in a twisted sort of way, but that doesn't particularly surprise me - I am a lust/violence writer on the side of romance. Can't imagine what possessed me to write this fic in the first place!

Anyway, you guys are amazing as regards reviews and I can't thank you enough - there's nothing quite like logging in to find a whole heap of reviews in your inbox.

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Cami - Calm! I'm a K/N shipper, okay? Relax! Breathe! Whooo…I was cringing all the way through the last chapter because of Neal putting his foot in his mouth like that, but I'm glad you found it amusing. Incidentally, as regards the brain damage *cackles* too late!

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Retribution

Feigning his fading footsteps down the corridor, Neal waited, listening hard at the door. Years of living in the palace had taught him how thin the walls were in this part. 

After a moment, he heard a series of strange choking noises which quickly gave way to agonising sobs. He had never known Kel to cry. _Never._ Not when Joren and his cronies beat her up, or when she thought the Stump was going to kick her out after her first year. Never. And now that _bastard_ had made her cry. 

Neal's hands balled into fists as he stood in the deserted hallway, listening to his closest friend waste her tears on a man who clearly didn't deserve them. He was livid - how dare Cleon lead her on like that when he had no intention of marrying her? Did he derive some sort of sick pleasure from it? 

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I want to take his eyes out   
Just for looking at you 

Anger making him reckless, Neal resolved to corner Cleon after supper and teach him a lesson. It vaguely registered in his mind that Cleon had a definite physical advantage over the leaner man, but Neal had an element of surprise on his side and hopefully could land a few punches before Cleon recovered enough to retaliate.

He was so absorbed in planning, that he didn't notice Owen until the younger squire drew level with him. Owen opened his mouth to greet him, but Neal hurriedly put a finger to his lips, gesturing with his other hand to Kel's door. 

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I want to take his hands off   
Just for touching you 

Owen's perpetually cheerful expression faded and he looked at Neal with questioning eyes. Beckoning him to follow, Neal led him down the corridor to his chamber that was across the hall from Alanna's. As soon as the door slammed shut, Owen turned on the older squire with a glare. "What did you do?"

Shaking his head, Neal gestured for him to sit down. "It wasn't anything to do with me. You know Cleon's betrothed?"

"What?!" yelled Owen, jumping up from the seat he had only just sat down on. "To who?"

"To whom. Ermelian of Aminar." Neal spat the name hatefully. "She's a typical court lady - all frills and no brain." until he had voiced the thought, Neal hadn't even been aware of his growing scorn for court ladies. When he compared them to women like his Knight-Mistress, and of course, his best friend, they seemed shallow and false. 

"I don't care who she is," said Owen sullenly, "Kel's worth ten of her."

Neal wholly agreed. "Cleon's a fool," he murmured, wondering what had possessed his friend to choose Ermelian over Kel. She was beautiful, yes, but it was a fake beauty that took hours of preparation and many servants to achieve. Not like Kel._ She _could be covered in mud and bruises from morning training and still look like a goddess. 

He blinked. Where had that thought come from? 

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And I want to rip his heart out   
Just for hurting you 

Mind racing, Neal considered his numerous crushes throughout his page and squire years, rejecting each one with a sense of disgust at his younger, more foolish self. With a great effort, he brought his thoughts to rest on the most painful of these acquaintances - Yuki - and found, to his great dismay, that he harboured no regret for their parting. What was happening to him? There had never been a time when he could not identify some passionate melancholy within himself that inspired him to write poems to the various objects of his affection. Now, however, he could only think of Kel. Her grace with the glaive, her rare smiles, the way she tried to keep him out of trouble - often incriminating herself in the process. 

Neal swallowed hard. He was all for deluding himself that he most certainly _did not_ think about his best friend in any sense other than the platonic, but the romantic in him was already composing a poem to her gorgeous eyes. 

"Gods…Cleon is such a fool…" he breathed, unconsciously gripping the arm of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

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And I want to break his mind down   
Yes I do 

"You've already said that," piped Owen, peering at Neal with confused grey eyes.

"Hmm? Oh, have I?" shaking his head to clear it of distracting thoughts, Neal looked back at his friend. It was somewhat of a joke between the squires; Owen's worship of Kel - Neal supposed that it must have started because of the fight with Joren and associates that marked the day they met. Unexpectedly, an irrational feeling of anger towards the young squire over came him - everyone suspected that he had a crush on Kel, and Neal didn't like that one bit.

"Owen, I've got some work to do for Lady Alanna before supper - would you mind?"

Owen shook his head and rose, and Neal remembering, said quickly. "And don't tell anyone that Kel was crying - I doubt she'd appreciate it."

Before he had taken more than a step, Owen suddenly looked his friend. "You're going to fight him, aren't you?"

Mouthing soundlessly, Neal stared. Finally, thinking that the situation couldn't really get any worse, he nodded. "Not a word to anyone though, and no, you can't help." he knew that Owen would ask that question, and was ready for it. He wanted the pleasure of beating Cleon _by himself._

  
And I want to make him   
Regret life since the day he met you 

Sighing regretfully, Owen gave him a half-hearted wave and disappeared out of the door. _At last…_Neal thought, throwing himself down on his neatly made bed. Unfortunately, now that he was alone, there was nothing to distract him from a rather pressing problem. What to do about Kel? He couldn't tell her, of course. If she didn't kill him, one of their friends would. It was funny, all of her friends were ridiculously protective of the girl squire, despite the fact that she was more able than any of them.

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And I want to make him   
Take back all that he took from you 

His emerald eyes closed, and his mouth twitched into a frown. No, fighting ability was not everything. Kel had faced the prejudice of the Kingdom, and though she tried not to show it and never complained, the constant pressure must have been killing her. The fact that she had made it this far, and that she would go on to achieve her shield, was part of the reason why he loved her.

Neal sat bolt upright, yelping as he hit the back of his head off the headboard. _Love?!_ No! Admiration, desire, adoration! Not love! The mere thought was so deeply disturbing that Neal was afraid to let his mind wander again. He didn't love Kel, of course not. Well, he did, but only as his closest friend, not…he shuddered. As a rule, Neal wasn't scared of love - Mithros knew he'd had a lot of crushes in his twenty-three years - but to love someone as…as _unattainable_ as Kel was just courting disaster.

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And I want to rip his heart out   
Just for hurting you 

Cleon was completely different to him. Where the younger man was fun-loving and brutally honest, Neal was sarcastic, suspicious and cynical. Kel may tolerate him as a friend, but he didn't think she'd even consider anything beyond that - he was too tainted.

Thoroughly depressed, he rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. He _had_ intended to get some sleep in order to be prepared when he fought Cleon, but his mind wouldn't give it a rest. Eventually though, Neal did fall asleep, an image of Kel's beautiful and deadly glaive dance playing in his head.

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And I want to break his mind down   
Yes I do

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You know you want to…*wicked grin* Tell me what I'm doing wrong, and what makes for passable writing. Is it realistic? Just whatever comes to mind!


	5. Dying Inside

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Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Tamora Pierce (in case you hadn't guessed that yet) and the song "Lost" is by Sarah McLachlan. Yay…

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A/N: I have a bit of a confession to make - I actually wrote this chapter before Retribution, and though I intended to post both up at the same time…I, uh…didn't. Really, I wanted to see the reactions to 4 first - it was a bit strange to write. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed, and I hope this chapter is a little bit more in character than the last *snickers*

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Jossie: I know it seemed out of place - that's why he was so surprised by the thought. The fact that he loves Kel glorifies everything about her, including her outward looks. 

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Misti: Terribly sorry! Is this fast enough for you? *laughs*

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Dying Inside

Slipper-clad feet made no sound on the polished floor as Kel crossed the room to her door. She very well knew that if she didn't attend supper, Neal would come and find her. If he was still talking to her, that was.

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By the shadows of the night I go

Kel did not particularly relish the thought of making polite conversation with Cleon and the beautiful Ermelian. In fact, thinking about it made her feel nauseous - what did she have to say to them? Cleon who was obviously more interested in his fiancée than anything Kel had to say, and Ermelian who was so sickeningly nice that Kel wanted to scream. 

She reached the doors of the hall and sucked in a breath. She _really_ didn't want to do this. 

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I moved away from the crowded room

Gossip. She recalled something that Lord Raoul once said on the subject of gossip - _"Didn't anybody tell you a palace is like a sieve?"_ It seemed that gossip truly was the mainstay of those quartered at the palace who had nothing better to do, for she saw friends and enemies alike, all staring at her. They _knew_. How could they not? 

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That sea of shallow faces masked in warm regret,  
They don't know how to feel, they don't know what is lost

"Kel!" she caught a movement in the corner of her eye, and before she had to time to react, the air was knocked out of her lungs as an overjoyed Owen flung his arms around her. 

Kel laughed breathlessly and gave his brown curls a gentle tug. "You're making me look undignified, whelp." to her amazement, her eyes were now level with Owen's.

He grinned and let her go, following to collect a tray and food from the servers. "I would have come and visited you earlier when I heard you were back, but Neal said not to,"

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But I don't have a hold on what is real

Silently, Kel promised that she would apologise to Neal after supper. He did mean well, just sometimes he didn't know when to leave well alone and let her deal with things her own way. 

"Kel?"

"Mmm?" she murmured noncommittally, selecting a roll from one of the baskets and setting it on her tray.

"I- I heard…are you alright?"

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Though we can only try,  
What is there to give or to believe?

For a while, she toyed with the idea of brushing off the question, as if the fact that Cleon was getting married to another woman in the not far-distant future didn't bother her at all. However, the Tortall-born part of Kel, the part that pushed her to speak her mind, won over, and Kel smiled, shaking her head. "No, not really." she didn't give him a chance to enquire further, as walking over to their usual table, Kel was engulfed by a storm of rowdy greetings from her friends.

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I want it all to go away, I want to be alone

She sat next to Neal, who shifted slightly, and for one horrible moment Kel wondered if he was angry with her. Swallowing nervously, she leaned over and whispered in his ear. "I owe you an apology," curious at the shiver this elicited from her friend, Kel continued, "it's just been a very long week."

To her relief, he nodded and patted her hand in a reassuring but vague sort of way. There seemed to be something preying on his mind, for he was quiet throughout the whole meal, only stirring when a question was directed at him.

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Sympathy's wasted on my hollow shell,  
I feel there's nothing left to fight for,  
No reason for a cause

At last, appearing to tire of the incessant chatter, Neal excused himself, shooting Kel a faint smile as he went. It was a mere shadow of his usual grin, but she was ecstatic - they were alright! She'd never fought with Neal before, and though it didn't seem that serious, he was very sensitive and tended to hold a grudge for a very long time.

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And I can't hear your voice and I can't feel you near

It was her intent to go after him, but Cleon motioned her to stay seated, and left the hall in search of Neal.

Afterwards, Kel suspected that this must have all been a carefully-constructed plot. Her friends disappeared in a steady stream, accompanied by meaningful glances and nudges to the ribs, until only Kel and Ermelian were present.

"Might we find somewhere to talk?" Ermelian seemed anxious - this did not particularly surprise Kel when she considered her own aloof behaviour earlier that afternoon.

**********

Somehow they ended up back in Kel's room, sitting at the window seat in awkward quiet. The sun was sinking down below the horizon as Kel watched, trying to feign unawareness of Ermelian's presence at her side. Unfortunately, the lady in question was being rather unobliging in that respect. "Keladry, I know you don't like me," Kel looked at her, and for the sake of good manners, opened her mouth to denounce the claim. Ermelian, however, had other ideas. "No, please, let me continue," Nodding her assent, Kel sat back and fixed her companion with an expectant stare.

Ermelian took a deep breath. "I had met Cleon when I was much younger - our mothers were friends at the convent, and it was their wish that we become friends also. We lost contact when he left to train as a knight, and I believed that to be the last I would hear of him; but scant years later, his father was killed by pirates from the Copper Isles. Kennan fell into debt, while Aminar grew in wealth. It was the obvious solution." Her hands twisted nervously in her lap, smoothing skirts of azure silk. "We met for the first time in ten years this summer. Oh, Keladry, you have no idea…I wanted to make a good impression, wanted to make him proud of me, but you were all he could talk about!"

Kel stared at her, startled, and Ermelian nodded bitterly. "Yes, for weeks he told me of your wonderful deeds, your idealism, how you overcame the prejudice of that dreadful training master to become one of the best squires in Tortall,"

Blushing, Kel protested. "Please, my lady,"

Ermelian held up a hand. "They are Cleon's words, not mine. I don't think you realise how highly he thinks of you." she sighed softly and turned her face to the darkening sky. "It was hard, you know, listening to him talk about you and knowing that I could never live up to your legacy. What have I to offer? Flower arranging! Embroidery! Nothing in comparison to what you have accomplished!"

Kel didn't know what to think. She was flattered that Cleon thought that much of her, but she also felt desperately sorry for Ermelian. The loneliness was clear in her eyes, and Kel reminded herself that even if she didn't have Cleon's love, she would at least have his friendship and respect. Ermelian was trapped in an arranged marriage to a man that she believed didn't love her at all.

Her internal dilemma was over. Ermelian might have the place Kel wanted - by Cleon's side - but she could feel no further resentment towards the girl. She hadn't chosen this betrothal - she was simply trying to make the best of it.

"Ermelian, I really don't think you have cause to worry. Cleon wrote me a letter shortly before I arrived back at the palace, and he made it quite clear how highly he thought of you."

The other girl looked at her, expression full of hope. "Really?" she asked tentatively, almost as if she were afraid it was too good to be true.

Kel smiled. "He could have rivalled Neal in the length of his descriptions of your beauty, grace and kindness!" she snickered and Ermelian laughed outright.

"Yes, I heard about Neal's poetic tendencies,"

They sat in companionable silence for a while, until Ermelian gasped, hand flying to her mouth as she stared at Kel wide-eyed. "Goddess! Now I know why you were so cold earlier! You must have hated me - I know you and Cleon used to court."

Shrugging uncomfortably, Kel deferred. "I knew from the start that there was no chance for us."

It was Ermelian's turn to look sympathetic. "I would change things if I could," but Kel smiled and shook her head.

"No, you wouldn't. And I wouldn't want you to. Cleon and me are just friends now, and anyway, he deserves a real lady, not a scarred bruiser like me," she held out her hands, peppered with fading white scars, a constant reminder of the griffin she had cared for.

The other girl looked shocked. "You shouldn't belittle yourself so!" she scolded, sounding oddly like Lalasa, which made Kel's grin widen. "I bet you are just as beautiful as any court lady in the right dress, and with your hair fixed properly."

Kel's ears pricked at the word 'bet'. "Are you sure about that?" she asked teasingly.

Ermelian smirked. "There's a ball at the end of the week, and I know you have to attend because Neal told me. Let me help you get ready so I can prove it to you - and who knows, perhaps you may find a distraction!"

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A distraction from what? Kel wondered. Ermelian smiled slyly, and realisation struck, making Kel blush. "How does Neal know that?" she asked curiously, trying to change the subject.

"All squires at court have been given the order. The pages will be serving in their stead,"

Finally, Kel agreed to let Ermelian help, holding the part of her that feared the mysterious art of face paint at bay. After all, it was just one night.

Sounds of shouting and a scuffle made her glance around at the open doorway. She knew those voices! Kel sprang up and ran across the room into the corridor, skidding to a halt in front of Neal and Cleon, Ermelian a pace behind her.

She arrived in time to see Cleon - sporting a black eye and a dislocated jaw - punch Neal so hard that the sickening crack of bone was audible all around the hallway. Ermelian shrieked and Kel lunged forward, pinning Cleon against the wall, forearm exerting pressure on his windpipe. He was a lot stronger than her, but Kel knew him well enough to be confident that he wouldn't raise a hand to her. "What," she growled, gaze not straying from Cleon's, "in Mithros' name is going on?"

"Maybe you should ask him." Cleon said quietly, relaxing in her grip, and making it clear to Kel that he had no intention of continuing the fight.

She let him go and turned around. Ermelian was supporting Neal who was swaying slightly from the pain. Kel looked at him and then back at Cleon who had sustained the most injuries. It didn't add up - Cleon could pound the older man to a pulp if he chose to, but Neal barely had a single bruise, with the exception of his newly-broken nose.

Her eyes narrowed. "Neal? What is this about?" Kel's voice was deceptively calm, although she had a cold suspicion about what had taken place.

Neal looked away, sliding out of Ermelian's hold. He said nothing, but his crimson blush spoke volumes.

"Would you excuse us please?" Kel asked Cleon and Ermelian politely. They left quickly, Cleon being held up by his fiancée, and Kel crooked her finger at Neal.

Shutting the door quietly behind her, Kel leaned against the cool wood and tried not to smile. Neal was slumped on her bed, out cold. 

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Endnote: For those of you who are romance-cynics, don't worry, Kel and Ermelian's bet will pale into insignificance when compared to what else happens on the night of the ball. No instant love stories (just add water!) for this authoress. I like my obstacles! *wicked grin*

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You all know the drill by now. That very pretty button comes in mightily useful for this next part…review!


	6. Unbreakable Oaths

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Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to Tamora Pierce, except for the song which is 'If that's what it takes' by Bon Jovi.

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A/N: Meep. I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I was sent down to London for tests on my head (yeah, applying for a top-class nuthouse *snickers*). Anyway, I'm not sure whether I like it or not, but happily, it's not up to me. Thank you all for the reviews, you are my constant inspiration.

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Vilranda: Well _I _know I'm crazy, I'm just glad you realised it too!

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Lady Sandrilene: Thank you for the constructive crit, it has been duly noted *grins* but this was really only meant to be a little one-shot ficlet for writing romance (something that I'm truly horrendous at) so it wasn't going to be all that developed characteristically anyway. Unfortunately, reviews turned it into a planned epic, so I will try and slow it down a bit in future.

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Captured Dreamer: Fluff scares me too. I'm an angst writer dammit!

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Dragonlady: Your wish is my command! Though, I notice that it's quite long, so when I have a bit of time out from homework & exams, I will read it through and write you a long review. Kay? *grins*

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Cami: *hides under bed* I've sunk to writing 'cute' chapters. Woe is me! Incidentally, this chapter is in your honour, for Neal's 'unwholesome' thoughts (not that I've expanded on them of course, but you may at your leisure! *giggles*).

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Jazzie: I'm not allowed caffeine on my tablets at the moment so I know exactly how you feel *spasms* I hope this makes up for it a little bit!

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Min: I don't think I've ever blushed so much in my life (errr…with the exception of reading Cami's uber-fic in the school library with random teachers peering over my shoulder *cringes*). Thank you so much.

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Unbreakable Oaths

Neal opened one eye cautiously - he appeared to be lying in bed, but as he tilted his head upwards, he caught sight of a dresser on which a large collection of Yamani cats was arranged. Kel? What was he doing in Kel's room? More importantly, what was he doing in her bed? Heat flooded Neal's body at the thought. Just what exactly had happened?

Turning over, he caught sight of the object of his current dilemma - Kel was curled up in the corner armchair, the dress she had been wearing to supper rumpled around her sleeping form.

He grinned, propping his head up on his arm to watch her. Kel looked different when she was asleep - unguarded, vulnerable, like she needed protecting. It was a surreal experience, and against his will, Neal imagined that he could quite happily watch her for hours.

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I played the part of a broken heart,

I played that part so lonely and so well 

Luckily for the part of Neal that maintained falling for his best friend was a very bad idea, Kel stirred at that moment.

"This may be a stupid question, but why am I lying in your bed?" Neal drawled after giving her a chance to wake up properly. "And what happened after Cleon…?" his voice trailed off as realisation struck. He groaned and fell back onto the pillows - Kel would be extremely angry with him right about now.

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Thought that love belonged to someone else, not me and you 

"Your father arrived shortly after you passed out," Kel's voice, like her face, gave no indication of her mood, and not for the first time, Neal cursed the Yamanis that had taught her.

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I know that you've been shattered, 

You've been bruised 

"Did he ask what happened?" Neal asked nervously, biting his lip as white-hot bolts of pain shot through his body, protesting at his attempt to sit up.

"He didn't need to - Cleon and Ermelian had already been to the Infirmary. Unfortunately, the way Ermelian told it, you had been trying to kill her betrothed." she stared at him, her eyes hard and unforgiving.

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We both know what it feels like when you lose 

After a while, she broke their contact with a faint sigh, and lowered her head into her hands. When her body began to shake, as if from silent sobs, Neal pulled himself into an unsteady standing position, alarmed. "Kel? Oh Gods…Kel, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have done it, but he'd upset you. Kel, please…" he knelt down by Kel's chair and rested a tentative hand on her back.

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But I'd bet my life on a roll of the dice for you 

To his surprise, she looked up at him grinning, her eyes filled with mirth. Neal mock-glared at her, before cuffing her shoulder lightly. "Wench! I thought you were crying!"

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I bet you counted all the tears I bet you've cried 

Kel shook her head. "If anything, I should be plotting your untimely death. What did you think you were doing, Neal? Did fighting Cleon accomplish anything at all?"

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I bet you swore you'd never let love back inside 

"Apart from a lot of pain? No, but it made me feel better," she gave him a stern glance, and he ruffled her hair affectionately, ruining her composed demeanour.

Kel pouted. "I can take care of myself, you know,"

"I know," he assured her quietly, suddenly serious, "but you should let someone else do it for you occasionally."

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And it's hard for broken hearts to just forget, 

But I'm riding blind, I'll lay it all on the line for you 

There were, Neal supposed, advantages to having grown up around the male pages, with little female contact save her maid. Unfortunately, one of them was not the knowledge to realise when someone was flirting with her. He regretted having spoken at all when Kel's expression became a frown. "What is _that_ supposed to mean?" she demanded.

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It means that other people care about you, clueless girl. He thought resignedly.

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If that's what it takes, that's what I'd do 

If we take the time to do it right, I know we'll pull through 

It didn't occur to Neal that he had spoken aloud until he looked back at Kel who was staring as if he had gone mad. "I think Cleon must have hit you harder than I thought," she said slowly, as if unsure of the truth of her own statement.

"Probably. Isn't it glorious?" he replied cheerfully, willing away a blush before Kel became even more suspicious. 

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If it took all my life, I'd prove it to you 

"If you say so, Neal," she muttered, still watching him warily as she rose, trying in vain to straighten out her skirts. Neal watched, fascinated. It was rare that Kel ever let her guard down enough to perform an action so feminine, though she did wear a dress to supper each night. This, he knew, was to remind them that Keladry Mindelan was a girl, not the boy with breasts. Not that _Neal_ could ever forget of course. 

Looking away quickly, he hauled himself into Kel's vacated chair and closed his eyes. Kel didn't seem to realise the full extent of her actions. The mere wearing of a dress further aggravated the conservatives by compounding the fact that Tortall was, to them, failing in it's duties. Soon they would have a second Lady Knight, and more would be to follow. He grinned to himself - Kel, his friend, had accomplished what even Lady Alanna had never done. She had proved that it was possible for girls to fight for the realm, even if they were not a tool of the Gods, or even possessed of the most basic of Gifts. 

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If that's what it takes, that's what I'd do 

A quiet cough roused him from his reverie; Kel, her hands laced before her, was looking meaningfully at him. "Wha?" Neal mumbled, shaking his head as if the action would disperse the rather unwholesome thoughts that his mind was now providing him with. It didn't help.

"What Lady Kel means, though she is too polite to say so, is that she wishes for you to leave now, Sir Neal." said an amused yet business-like voice from the doorway. Kel whipped around, and Neal found himself wondering if _he_ could react that fast. _Stop thinking about her!_ He commanded his own mind, as if it would aid matters. In fact, it made him feel rather foolish.

"Lalasa! I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," Kel ran over and hugged her one-time maid with an uncommon exuberance that he had seen only a handful of times. _Has she ever greeted me like that? _Neal tried to remember, before pushing the question away. If this was what lo…_infatuation_ made him into, then he'd rather become a priest. Eventually, he stood and left the room, clasping Kel's shoulder as he went, even though the touch burned him.

As it happened, he could not recall a single incident when Kel had shown him as much warmth as she did Lalasa. Was it because she had a façade to maintain, or was it because she thought of him as nothing beyond a friend? 

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If that's what it takes... 

As he threw open the door to his room, Neal was greeted with the singularly most terrifying sight of his life: a bloody and lifeless corpse, host to what his fevered imagination believed, a thousand knives. Her once beautiful dress of jade velvet was tattered and crimson stained, wrapped around the slender body like a shroud; eyes wider in death than they could have ever been in life, as a hideous parody of wakening.

Neal never even heard the scream that was his own.

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*cackles* The evil authoress implores that you review, for the sake of her nameless victim…


	7. Defenceless

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A/N: No song for this chapter because I didn't think it would be appropriate. Thank you all for your reviews, and I have to apologise for this chapter in advance - I wrote most of it whilst watching the news for updates.

Incidentally, I have no idea why a body just appeared in Neal's room - it was a completely random thing. Complaints to my muse!

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Lady of the Lilacs: *hugs* I'm glad it helped a little bit, and I hope you're okay.

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Stacey: Hehehe, yes I saw that movie - and loved it, I might add. Have you seen Queen of the Damned? Two words: Leather trousers.

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Lady Sandrilene: It started off having nothing to do with the story at all, then it provided me with a perfect hurt/comfort scenario. What could be more appropriate? *snickers*

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Keaira: Moodswings, yes. There's an explanation for that - Kel had some sort of inner resolve after her talk with Ermelian, it's like a closure. She's not completely over him, but it did help. Hey. Maybe she's trying to take her mind off things *grins* with a little help from everyone's favourite green-eyed healer!

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Dedication: To the casualties of a futile war, and the ones they left behind.

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Defenceless

Grief. Sorrow. Confusion. Anger. A maelstrom of emotions swirled through Kel's mind as she sat rigidly on the cushioned chair opposite Lord Wyldon. It was unheard of for a mere squire to be seated in the King's council chamber, but here were two - Neal's hand exerting an almost unbearable pressure on her own as he waited by Kel's side.

Murder in the palace. Already rumours would be circulating, each one more improbable than the last, and yet as possible as any truth. What was the truth? There was no discernable clue to either the identity or the motivation of the killer. For revenge? It had certainly seemed that way earlier, as Kel knelt on the icy stone floor of Neal's chambers, her arms around his shaking body, holding him in wordless horror. It could destroy Neal; it might destroy them both. 

"You are dismissed." the words punctured Kel's inner silence like needles, and she felt Neal's grip tighten still more as he pulled her up after him. Neal either did not notice Lord Wyldon's disapproving gaze, or he didn't care. Inwardly cringing in pain, Kel felt the bones in her hand grind together under the force.

"Neal," she whispered as they left the room, "you're hurting me," he looked blankly at her for a moment, before his eyes fell to their enjoined hands. Kel repressed a shiver; their gazes had met for seconds, but it was enough to see eternities of despair in bloodshot depths. 

"I know." his voice was cold and empty. _Like death…_Kel thought, thankful for the easing of his hold. Neal refused to let her go entirely however, and when he stopped to stare unseeing out of the window, Kel was forced to stay beside him.

Fine strands of early moonshine bound the two in their matched sorrow, illuminating their corrupted home. The palace felt…contaminated to her now. Finally, noticing that Neal was lingering overlong in the deserted hallway, Kel tugged him away, even though she had no eventual destination in mind.

His own room was being emptied by terrified and superstitious servants. It was under the order of Duke Baird, who guessed - correctly - that his son would not return to that scene, with the echoes of memory ringing in his mind.

"Where will you go?" she asked almost fearfully, avoiding his eyes as she unlocked the door of her room.

"Father offered me a bed in the hospital wing until my new chambers are finished," he said it with reluctance and Kel couldn't blame him. The hospital wing was somewhere she had spent a lot of time as a page, being patched up by Duke Baird after another disastrous fight with Joren and his friends. Even these short visits made her feel acutely uncomfortable - the starched white nature of the place was designed to put patients at ease, but it did not have the desired effect. Kel didn't like to think of her best friend spending even one night in that blank impersonality. "You can stay here if you wish - I'll have a cot made up in the dressing room…" she knew the scandal it would cause and she didn't care. It would only be a stain on her name, not his, and if she was completely honest with herself, Kel would admit that she didn't want to be alone.

He hardly needed to think about it. "Thank you," Neal whispered, following her through the door. 

Whilst Neal sat on the floor, leaning back against her bed, Kel disappeared into the dressing room where Lalasa was already making up a pallet for Neal. It never ceased to amaze Kel quite how perceptive her former maid was. "Milady, are you well?" she asked quietly, tucking under the corners of a sheet with swift, efficient grace.

"I'm fine," Lalasa looked sceptical until Kel darted her eyes towards the flimsy partition that separated them from the main room. The seamstress nodded sympathetically, and clasped Kel's hand gently. "I have work yet to do for the Queen and her ladies, so I will see you tomorrow. Goodnight, milady."

"Goodnight, Lalasa," Kel smiled weakly, before returning to the adjoined chamber to listen. That was her acquired art, to watch and listen and to be there for others when they needed a confidant. She had never appreciated it as much at she did now.

***************

"They'll be starting soon," Kel looked at her friend curiously as she handed him a cup of hot green tea, made from her precious store of the leaf. Taking her seat above him on the bed, she asked cautiously "Starting what?"

"Funeral preparations." 

If words could echo in that room, they did in that moment. _Funeral preparations? Already? _But of course, palace life went on at times like this. Bile rose in Kel's throat. How could they? Someone had _died_. There should be a period of mourning at the very least!

"I shan't go," she jumped at the sound of his voice.

"_What?_" she demanded, aghast, "Why not?"

Neal looked up at her from his lower position, and the intense rage in his eyes made her shrink back. Kel had never seen him like this. "They didn't know her. None of them. Oh, they might've known 'Lady Yukimi noh Diaomoru' but they never knew Yuki." 

It shouldn't have made sense, but it did. Their fiery, fun-loving Yamani friend had shown that side of her personality to very few people for fear of rebuke. Underneath years of constraining Yamani etiquette teaching lay a vivid character that she could only let reign among close friends.

"Maybe not, but they mourn the person they thought they knew. Will you grudge them that?" against her naturally compassionate nature, Kel felt that Neal was being extremely selfish. He wasn't the only one that was hurting. "They were all her friends. Yuki didn't have enemies."

"No?" she didn't like the tone he now took with her, "Then who did this?" as soon as the words left his mouth, Kel could tell that he came to a terrible realisation that she herself had been avoiding all afternoon. The colour drained from Neal's cheeks, and the cup he was holding smashed on the icy stone floor; both of them stared at the shards of bone-white china until Neal took a great shuddering breath.

"Me. It was all my fault. We weren't even involved any more, but someone knew that this would still hurt and they killed her. She died because of _me_!" he yelled, voice having risen to a hysterical crescendo.

"No! Don't say that," Kel was scared for him, and did the only thing that she could think of, cupping Neal's face in her hands and forcing him to meet her gaze. "This isn't anyone's fault but the murderer's, and don't you dare think otherwise!"

He made an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat before reaching up to wrap his arms around her waist, and buried his face against the curve of her hip. Kel, at a slight loss, smoothed down his tumbled chestnut hair, trying to ignore the heartbreaking sensation of hot tears soaking through her shirt.

****************

Winter. Kel had always disliked winter - it meant confinement to the palace and days of service where things went wrong more often than right. And the cold, of course. She was not quite to the level of Sir Lady Alanna's legendary hatred of cold weather, but on nights like this, she might as well have been. 

The hearth fire had died down hours ago, until now when only the glowing embers were left. If she had the energy or inclination, she would rise and rebuild it, but unfortunately, she did not. Instead, Kel wriggled further into her blankets and pulled them more tightly around her.

A faint ironic smile graced her features for a moment. It wasn't the cold that kept her awake through the night, and it was no use trying to delude herself as she lay in the dark room, gazing at the shadows cast on her walls. The sound of pacing from her dressing room indicated that Kel was not the only one dwelling on the events of that day and the conclusion of sorts that had been reached. Tears and hysteria wouldn't help; hindsight wouldn't bring Yuki back.

"Neal?"

His tousled head appeared around the partition, emerald green eyes peering at her owlishly through the darkness. "You as well?" 

Kel gave him a half smile and beckoned him to her. However, the instant he stepped around the screen, Kel felt herself blushing scarlet. Despite the freezing temperature, Neal was only clad in a pair of loose breeches that rode low on his slender hips, and she could see taut muscles that rippled under the ivory skin of his bare torso.

As he perched on the side of her bed, Neal surveyed her in weak amusement. "Cold?"

"Freezing, aren't you?" she replied, voice slightly muffled from the blanket that she had pulled to her chin. Neal leant down so far that their foreheads were nearly touching. "Yes, but us warrior stoics can't complain," it was black humour, and she was aware of the mocking edge to his comment, but Kel couldn't trust her voice to reply - she was sure her breathlessness would betray her. 

Raising a corner of her blanket nest, Neal asked "May I?" _No!_ Said her cautious mind that knew this was wrong. _Say no! _But her traitorous body disobeyed, and Kel found herself nodding ascent.

Much better. No matter how immoral it may appear, Kel was grateful for her friend's reflected warmth as his body stretched out in a perfect mirror of her own.

"What are you thinking about?" she enquired after a period of quiet introspection, during which she came to the conclusion that the friendship between her and Neal had already progressed too far if this is where they had ended up. The physical closeness had not been there before her return to court, and Kel wasn't really sure that she liked it. When she had first received Cleon's letter, the day after the disastrous village raid, she had sworn that Keladry of Mindelan would _never_ get involved in another doomed relationship, and starting something with Neal…they were so different. Not to mention the fact that he was clearly not over Yuki, which made the current tragedy all the more poignant.

"I'm thinking that Yuki is probably laughing at us right now," he murmured huskily in Kel's ear, so tantalisingly close and yet not touching at all. 

"Why do you say that?" she shied away from him slightly, angry at her heartbeat for speeding up and reminding her of the greatest weakness in her life.

"All this crying and grieving over her. She always said that the Easterners were too sensitive for their own good." Kel permitted herself a small smile. Yes, that sounded exactly like something the perpetually cheerful Yuki would have said. 

As if noticing her long silence, Neal shifted onto his side so Kel was forced to look up at him. "Kel? Can I ask you something?" 

"Depends what it is. You might not get an answer," she replied edgily, trying to find a clue in Neal's shadowed eyes.

"Did you love Cleon?" Kel stiffened, her insides turning cold. _Why does he want to know? Why now?_ _Has Cleon said something? _She flinched when he laid a hand on her bare arm, and horrified at the pained expression on Neal's face, stuttered an apology.

"No, _I'm_ sorry, I had no right to ask. Just forget I said anything." the atmosphere had turned decidedly frosty, and Neal flipped back the covers to leave her bed without even sparing a glance for Kel.

"Neal," she lunged forward to grasp his wrist in a vice-like hold. Kel might not know his motives for asking such a personal question, but he did have a right to know. _"No secrets." _

"I - I don't know. I thought I did once, but…Ermelian…I couldn't ask him to sacrifice his people…" shrugging helplessly, Kel pulled her hand away and hugged the blanket closer to her body. Neal's intent stare was making her skin prickle, but she forced herself to meet his gaze for the sake of pride. He let out his breath in a long sigh.

"You're amazing," dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, he stood up, "Night, Kel."

She watched him vanish into the dressing room in a sort of dreamlike incredulity, until she finally came to her senses enough to whisper "Goodnight…" 

****

Do your worst, my friends.


	8. Storm Clouds

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Disclaimer: As usual, not mine. Song is 'Rain' by the fabulous Alanis Morissette. No idea what it sounds like in original format, but it has fantastic lyrics (which I've messed around with).

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A/N: In the words of Stacey (who apparently comes with her own fan club, which I can quite believe): "Eugh. Why, oh why, can't they just sleep together? WHY?" You see my friends, every time the characters come close to having a 'moment', that little thing called conscience kicks in. Would you really want to read about the POTS cast if they didn't have morals? Wait, don't answer that…

Anyway, thank you for your most gratifying response to chapter seven (topped 100 reviews and it's only 7 chapters long!), and I will apologise now for the clichéd character death - she was getting in the way, and quite frankly, I like her better dead. Sadistic? Moi? But really, there's a teensy bit of plot creeping into my story and it's very worrying - since when did romance require a plot?! 

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Demented Dreamer - I was getting there! Don't worry, I do have plans for Dom which I hope he will be happy with. However, seeing as this is primarily K/N, I'm focusing on them for the majority of the fic. As for Cleon, yes, he is already knighted - I made a reference to "The tall, redheaded knight…" in chapter 3.

Incidentally, although I am quite fond of Ermelian (for all that she is a court lady and prone to hysterics), wouldn't you be a little bit put out if one of you betrothed's so-called friends started beating him up? 

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Cobweb - *cackles* over-reacting, much? But I'm glad you were impassioned enough to start screaming obscenities at me! 

__

  
**Halley - **Now would Cleon do a thing like that? *snickers* Actually, surprisingly, I'm not a member of Cleon-haters anonymous so Murderer!Cleon isn't looking too likely!

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Stacey - I found that they more often killed off Cleon if they were going for a hurt/comfort angle on the whole romance thing (presumably having Neal cry like a girl wouldn't add much to their fantasies of his gorgeous manliness *spasms*). 

Mmmm…Stuart Townsend…so good even my guy friends find him hot…*snickers* 

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Storm Clouds

Neal could hear her doing that gods cursed glaive dance again, and he muttered a whole string of expletives as his will to resist crumbled. Rising gracefully, he pulled on his shirt, tucking it haphazardly into breeches that were too big for him, before running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make himself slightly more presentable. _Not that it matters._ He thought, bitterly. Kel had seen his at his very worst, crying like some hysterical court lady when he was to take the Ordeal of Knighthood in a week.

"Morning," he said, stifling a yawn. It really was too early for this, but as he had discovered on numerous summer camps with Kel, she was prone to dawn awakenings.

Before she even replied, Neal could tell that there was something wrong. Kel jumped, nearly dropping her practice glaive in surprise. 

"Morning," she replied calmly, keeping her back turned on him, and leaning against her weapon like a staff. Kel wasn't clumsy, and she certainly wasn't easy to startle.

"Kel, is there something wrong?" a brief flash of worry crossed his mind - what if she took offence at his actions last night? He had only wanted to make up for asking such an invasive question, though the answer had been worth it. If she didn't know for certain whether she had been in love with Cleon, then chances were that she hadn't. A slight feeling of self-disgust came over him, but Neal pushed it away.

Kel shook her head and rose her glaive, preparing to start another sequence, but Neal darted forward and spun her around with a hand on her shoulder. She flinched and backed up to the wall. Neal frowned; her reticence to let him touch her had not escaped his notice, either now or the night before. "Why can't you stand to be near me any more?" he asked quietly, knowing there was defeat in his voice. _Has this something to do with Yuki? _Neal wondered as he scrutinized Kel who stared back levelly, an impassive mask concealing all thoughts. Her stance was defensive, like she felt as if she was in danger from him. _I would never hurt her. What has she to fear?_

"Do you…remember what you dreamed about last night?" the question was tentative, and her voice barely audible in the distance between them.

"Why? Should I?" Neal was completely lost. The conversation surely had a purpose, but he couldn't quite identify it.

She gave the barest shake of her head and tried to manoeuvre around Neal, but he threw out an arm and caught her around the waist. "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what this is about," absently he noticed how well Kel seemed to fit into the curve of his arm, and he looked down at her with an intense gaze. Neal was becoming more frustrated with the way Kel wouldn't confide in him unless he forced the information of her. They were meant to be friends - didn't that mean anything now?

"You were calling for her, Neal." something akin to pity was directed at him from darkened hazel depths. His mouth formed an 'O' of surprise and he reflexively tightened his hold on Kel, trying desperately to remember what in Mithros' name the dream had been about. It shouldn't have shocked him; Yuki had, after all, been on his mind since…was it really only yesterday? It seemed like eternities had past since he had found her.

"Gods…" he breathed, closing his eyes against the onslaught of images that sought to overcome him. 

**__**

There had been so much blood; he had never seen so much…rivulets of scarlet running through cracks in the flagstones, its coppery scent lacing the air like the sweet smoke of a funeral parlour.

He was on his knees then, hands stained incriminatingly, throat raw from screaming. And Kel had arrived, her very presence calming him as nothing else could. Neal didn't know what she had said during those few minutes when all that existed was pain and her embrace, and he doubted that Kel did either. It didn't matter - it wasn't the words, but the tone: soothing, like one would talk to a frightened animal.

There was a clang of metal on stone as Kel's glaive hit the floor, blade first. Neal's eyes snapped open and to his embarrassment, he found that, unconsciously, he had shifted grip on Kel. One arm was curled possessively around her waist, and the other snaked diagonally across her back.

Looking down to see what reaction she would have to that, Neal caught a glimmer of silver which inspired him to tilt Kel's chin upwards. She wouldn't meet his eyes as he stared at her wonderingly. It wasn't like when he had seen court ladies cry - for all their grace and shallow beauty, tears made their faces blotchy and their eyes red. It was as if a statue wept, tears rolling down her smooth, blank façade. 

__

Of course, why didn't I think about it? Kel and Yuki had been best friends for years, yet Neal had paid her barely any heed when his own misery had taken precedence. _How much more selfish can I be?_

Impulsively, Neal leant down and kissed away a tear, their contact lasting a few frozen seconds before Kel pulled away, wide-eyed. "You should go - breakfast - people will…talk…." 

He nodded and backed away, trying to decide whether to apologise or not. _No,_ Neal thought resolutely, _because I'm not sorry._

************

The hospital wing basked in the reassuring quiet of research. Neal had spent many afternoons there with his Knight-Mistress as she explained the fundamentals of various healing arts, and in comparison to the turmoil of the palace proper, this familiarity calmed him. 

"Neal," 

He turned to look at the speaker. "Hello, Father," ignoring the question in his father's green eyes, Neal opened a large chest in a corner of the office where his possessions were being temporarily stored and withdrew his only set of black mourning clothes. 

"Where were you last night?"

"Does it matter?" he didn't particularly relish the thought of telling his father the truth, as in hindsight, it had been rather foolish to accept Kel's offer. _Not that I regret it._

Duke Baird sighed in frustration. "Neal, you never think, do you? That young lady has little enough reputation among the conservatives as it is, simply for living and working with men; your actions will ensure that she has even less."

"She doesn't care what the conservatives think, and anyway, she suggested it."

"And you accepted,"

Neal glared at the older man, arms folded across his chest. "Kel doesn't have her parents at court, and Lalasa is too involved with her business to spare her much time. What would you have me do?" though he couldn't admit it to himself, Neal knew that it was more to aid himself than Kel that he stayed with her. Kel was the element of rationality in his life that put things in perspective. 

"Kel is a strong girl - she will manage." Duke Baird's voice was reasonable, but his words were not. 

"She's not as strong as you think," Neal muttered, gathering his belongings and stalking out of the room.

************

After he had washed and changed, the prospect of breakfast seemed even less appealing than it had earlier. For one thing, there was facing the crowds in the mess hall; news of his and Yuki's relationship had been common knowledge whilst it existed, and a topic for gossip once it had ended. Neal knew that this was only because of his own status - as the only son of a Duke, particularly Chief Healer of the Realm, he was a much vaunted prize. 

Although they had lost contact after Yuki had left, breaking off their relationship on the last night of the Progress, he had thought about her often, with a sort of affectionate, bittersweet fondness.

__

It was the night the violins played,  
And we were standing in the pouring rain

She had been, after all, his first love, and Neal regretted with all his heart that they had parted on such painful terms. Especially now.

__

If I had known it was the last time I would see you again...  
I would change everything...

"We are too similar, you and I," The scene of that night came unbidden to his mind, and Neal sank into the memory.

**__**

Her hands were nervously smoothing the folds of her delicate fan as they stood side by side on the balcony overlooking an expanse of garden. Neal was just as ill at ease, though he said nothing to Yuki. Lately their relationship had degenerated somewhat, and he suspected that it was the fault of his ongoing education in the healing arts. Lady Alanna demanded more time than Neal wished to give; time that could be spent with Yuki who obviously resented his lack of attention. "Whatever it is, Yuki, please just say it." deep down, he knew what she was having trouble telling him, but he wanted to hear it for himself. Perhaps it would provide some sort of closure.

Yuki wouldn't even look at him then, instead turning to look out at the crescent moon that lit the sky. She was as beautiful and elegant as he had ever seen her, and yet Neal's only regret was that he had never really gotten to know Yuki as well as he wished. Yamanis, she had told him once when he made this observation to her, never revealed themselves to anyone in great depth - not even their closest family.

"There is a saying in the Isles: Nothing ever ends, it only begins." she murmured quietly, and Neal knew that was all he was going to get from her. Everything about the Yamani people was subtle and they skirted around issues that needed to be addressed using politeness as justification. 

"Will you be returning to Corus with the Princess?" 

Yuki shook her head, her ebony hair glinting with silver from the moonlight. "I will return to Yaman for a time - I very much wish to see my family again." 

He suspected that it was an excuse on her part, but Neal wasn't about to complain. It would be difficult enough forgetting about their relationship without seeing her at every turn - courting other men, as he presumed Yuki would eventually do. It was cold conclusion to his first real relationship.

"Fine," Neal said darkly, turning his back on her and starting to walk away towards the warmth and music of the ballroom. "That's absolutely fine."

It turned out that those were the last words he ever said to Yuki; marred by frustration and hurt. All he could hope now was that she had found it in herself to forgive him before her death.

__

I look through the broken glass I watch the storm go through my mind,  
There's so much I had to say, I know the words I left behind.

  
As he was wandering aimlessly through the maze of corridors, Neal didn't notice where he was going until his traitorous footsteps brought him to his own door. It was exactly the same as it had been for the last four years - sturdy and unornamented oak with a cold steel handle that silently taunted Neal to face the room beyond. _  
  
And now I'm caught in a daydream with nowhere to run and hide,  
The world rushes by me, it's leaving me here all alone._

There was nothing left in his chambers to suggest that anything out of the ordinary had taken place, and Neal strode across the room to look out of the window at the storm that battered against the glass.

Minstrels sang about days like this, when battles were fought, and lives were lost, and Kings and commoners alike mourned for the dead. Would they mourn for Yuki today?

__

  
I would change everything, but I can't do anything,  
I would give all that I have to know where you are.

"I thought I might find you here," Neal didn't reply, choosing instead to relish the view that he would certainly never see from this window again. The room overlooked a particularly verdant part of the Queen's Garden, chosen especially by Lady Alanna for 'inspiration' as she - like most others at court - had heard about his tendency to write poetry incessantly. _  
  
I'll always carry you inside my heart,  
And I always knew that you would take a part of me away with you._

"Everyone is worried about you," a hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Neal raised an eyebrow at his cousin.

"By everyone, I presume you mean Kel,"

Dom nodded. "She told me where to find you."

"She didn't know," he answered dully. The fact that Kel had sent Dom instead of coming herself disappointed him. _She always knows where I am. _His mind supplied helpfully, prompting a slight inner smile.

__

  
At night I hear your voice and it is calling out my name,  
And with every hour just hold on to what you can

"It's torture for her too, Neal. And worse, because she feels responsible for you. Kel knows you aren't in any fit state to do anything at the moment - not even be left alone." Dom's tone was accusing, and though it made him angry, Neal couldn't fault the truth in his words. In their friendship, Kel had always been emotionally stronger, hiding her feelings behind an impenetrable mask. 

__

That night is just a memory,  
But I still feel you standing next to me

"I know. Where is she?" it was more a matter of curiosity than necessity that he wanted to find out. Neal didn't think that his friend would welcome his company again that day, not after their earlier encounter.

"Practice courts. _Outdoor_ practice courts." Dom replied, biting off the words angrily. "She wouldn't listen to reason. Said something about how the cold makes her think better."

Neal laughed harshly. He had heard about how Buri had found Kel trying to shoot a Yamani longbow in knee-deep snow last year, all because she had needed a place to 'think'. Absently, he wondered what weapon she'd have chosen this time.

__

  
And when I think I hear your voice, all I hear is the rain...

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Although I really shouldn't ask any more from my fabulous reviewers…I will *snickers* So, tell me what was good and bad, and even what you'd like to see happen, though I'm making no promises on that count.


	9. A Fool's Masquerade

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A/N: Gods, this has taken me an inordinately long time to write. Between getting to grips with the subtle science and exact art of Y!M (technology hates me) and Rping incessantly, I haven't had much time. Also, I think this chapter was possibly the most difficult to…balance, I suppose. Neal has the capacity to angst dramatically but it would be pretty OOC for Kel to do the same. No song this time either - there wasn't anything suitable.

Anyway, my thanks for reviewing the last chapter - it was a lot of fun to write, though I regret that there probably won't be any others that are quite as angsty in this story.

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Cobweb - *laughs manically* now there's encouragement for me! Seriously though, I was most pleased with the last chapter - angst comes more easily than romance.

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Christelle - Thank you! I do tend to be a bit liberal with the punctuation. Sentence lacking something? Throw in a few commas for effect! Obviously, some are mistakes because I don't have a beta and after reading over the same chapter for the ninth time, you can understand how I miss things.

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Stacey - *snickers* sorry, I was just teasing. I wanted to see what your reaction would be. About the whole IM thing…don't they have anything better to do? *rolls eyes* Glad I'm not a celebrity!

Incidentally, I have heard the song, though I couldn't use it in this chapter (for…er…obvious reasons) and no, no love triangles. I'll sort Dom out in due course. Probably after Cleon gets what's coming to him *cackles evilly*

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Gina - Of course he would! Neal's the man! *giggles* sorry... Anyway, I don't think he was really in his right mind at that point - driven insane by grief, perhaps?

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A Fool's Masquerade 

The blade swung in vicious arcs - _block, slash, riposte, stab, block _- in rhythm with the rain hitting the surface of the practice court. Wet strands of brown hair were plastered to Kel's forehead, and the icy downpour was making her hands slip on the hilt of her sword. _Why does he always have to make things more complicated?_ She asked for what must have been the thousandth time that morning, receiving no more answer than she had for the first.

Frustrated, Kel increased the pace of her exercise until she could no longer judge the movement of her own blade. It was dangerous, she knew, but the renewed vigour was more than welcome. 

"Kel!" she longed to run from that voice, the deep baritone that had addressed her by so many flowery names over the years, the voice that she could have fallen in love with if only he had let her.

But she didn't run from him. Kel would never run again, not since that first sickening feeling guilt when she left Merric to the mercy of Joren and company. Instead, she carried on as if she hadn't heard - pushing her body to the very limits of endurance, revelling in the sound of the sword whistling through unresisting air.

"Kel, stop! You'll hurt yourself!" panted Cleon, not daring to come within range. _Why do you care? _She wondered angrily, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead as if she looked right through him.

Finally, impatience seemed to get the better of the knight and he strode forwards, bellowing. "For Mithros' sake, Kel!" the fear was evident in his eyes, and it was this silent appeal, more than any, that made Kel end her routine with a flourish, burying the sword point down in the ground between them.

Hazel eyes met grey and she waited, determined that Cleon would be the first to break their silence. He scuffed the ground with the toe of his boot, clearly uncomfortable. _With good reason_, Kel thought, folding her arms. Now that she had stopped moving, the cold was beginning to take effect, chilling her even through the thick quilting of her jerkin. 

"Are you…are you well?" Cleon asked at long last, not even looking at her, eyes locked on the ground at his feet.

The temptation was too great to resist, and Kel knew afterwards that far too much time had been spent with Neal recently. "Of course. One of my best friends has been murdered, the other is falling apart and I'm practicing my fencing in a rainstorm. Life is wonderful, truly it is, Cleon."

He made a sharp movement, as if to reach out to Kel, but changed his mind and buried both hands in the pockets of his breeches. It was better that way. "Will you walk with me?" 

Kel looked at him for a long moment before nodding resignedly, picking up her discarded sword and following the knight out of the practice courts.

There was an atmosphere of tense expectation about Cleon, like he was waiting for her to break down into hysterical tears at any moment. Kel rolled her eyes at his back as he walked ahead, leading the way to the gardens. If, after all these years, he knew as little as that about her, it was just as well that he was marrying Ermelian. 

"Whatever this is about, please just say it," she sighed, catching up with Cleon, made wary by his uncommon quiet. It was rare that the redhead was ever lost for words.

When he turned abruptly, Kel nearly ran into him. He looked almost…_scared _of the thought he was about to give voice to. Kel frowned. That wasn't like Cleon either.

"Kel, I don't want you take this question the wrong way, I mean, I'm not trying to pry…" his cheeks were slowly turning red as he blundered his way through the sentence. Out of pity and embarrassment for her friend, Kel prompted him kindly.

"I won't be offended. Just tell me," 

"AreyouinlovewithNeal?" she blinked as the words came out in a rush, mentally sorting through the confusion.

"Am I in love with…?" Kel's eyes widened. "What? No! I mean, he's my best friend," she said it as if that mere fact negated the possibility of…_that._

"Exactly," Cleon sighed heavily and shifted his gaze to a more neutral point - somewhere a few inches above Kel's head. "You won't let him come too close in case that perfect mask slips. What kind of friend acts like that?" 

Kel stared at him in mute amazement. How did he know? How could _Cleon_ of all people read her like a book? Was she really that obvious?

"If it's any consolation, he'll know well enough not to hurt you like I did," Kel narrowed her eyes at this presumption.

"What makes you think you hurt me? I knew from the start that you were betrothed."

Cleon smiled sadly, his glance revealing the pity he held for her, angering Kel. She didn't want his pity! "Neal didn't beat seven kinds of hell out of me for nothing, Kel. I'm sorry you know, I didn't want to write that letter in the first place." his eyes widened and took a step back, seeming to think that he had said too much.

"Cleon?" 

"I…well, I mean…" he took a deep, steadying breath and met her gaze. "Kel, none of it was true. I wrote it because I thought that if I could convince you I was in love with her, it might make me believe it more." Cleon hung his head. "It didn't quite work out that way - I couldn't stop thinking about how much I loved _you_, and when I got back and found you and Neal…gods, Kel, I thought my world was ending!" 

She shook her head wordlessly. Had he told her this only a few days previously, she would have been ecstatic, but now all Kel could think was that, unwittingly, she had lied to Ermelian. "There was - is - nothing going on, Cleon. I had injuries from a raid and I didn't want to go to a healer." Kel answered finally, swallowing nervously under his intense grey stare.

Shrugging, he replied quietly "Even if there was, it wouldn't my business. It's not like we're together anymore." the defeat in his voice made her heart ache for him.

"Ermelian isn't so bad. I spoke to her - two nights ago," she looked up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Cleon raised his eyebrows and gestured for her to continue. "She wants you to be proud of her. Cleon, don't you think you should try and make the best of this?"

"How can I? How can I do what is expected of me if all I can think about is you?" He asked angrily, taking a few steps towards her, but Kel moved away.

"Don't do this." she warned, backing up to the wall that surrounded the Queen's Garden. "Ermelian is beautiful and kind - it's more than many in your position can say about their betrothed."

"But she's not you. Couldn't we just…?" he pleaded hopefully, clearly not having thought about the implications of his unspoken question.

Kel went very white at the suggestion and her tone became icy. "Because we're friends, I'm going to forget that you ever said anything." pushing past him, she strode out of the gate and nearly ran down the path. At any moment, she expected to hear her name called and footsteps behind her, but they never came. Kel wasn't sure whether she was relieved about that or not - for one thing, she didn't like being at odds with any of her friends, and for another, she wanted to know from Cleon that what he'd almost asked her had been a poorly phrased, but perfectly innocent question. Surely he couldn't think that she'd agree to be his _mistress_? 

Questions and accusations swimming around her mind, Kel broke into a sprint, lifting her face to the grey sky. The clouds roiled as if in divine anger, shooting down bolts of white lightning to smite the earth. It was as if even the gods mourned for Yuki - choosing to show their sorrow through the deadly beauty of nature. Kel took one last long glance at the storm before disappearing into the palace building.

Where it had been bitterly cold outside, the indoors was uncommonly warm. Fires must have been lit in every room to hold the chill of winter at bay. Kel jogged through the maze of corridors, attracting many strange looks for her drenched appearance, and finally reached her room where Lalasa sat sewing in the window. "My lady!" she gasped, rising from her seat and putting aside her embroidery. "Where have you been?"

Kel smiled ruefully. "Fencing,"

"In this weather?" Lalasa pursed her lips and gave the squire a stern look. Nevertheless, she flagged down two servants in the hallway, and a hot bath was soon prepared. Kel stripped off her sodden clothes wearily and handed them to Lalasa, before slipping into the water. The ache from her over-enthusiastic training session eased somewhat by the heat, and Kel felt slightly more invigorated as the minutes passed.

"You really should know better, my lady," Lalasa said quietly after a long period, hanging up Kel's garments by the fire and retrieving a stack of fluffy white towels that she had placed there to warm.

"I had things to think about and there were too many people in the indoor courts," she replied, as if the concept made perfect sense.

"Lady Yukimi?" Lalasa handed her the largest towel as she stepped out of the tub and Kel wrapped it around herself, shivering despite the warmth of the room.

"Among other things," Kel blushed slightly as her former maid gave her a very knowing look. "Lalasa?"

"Mmm?" she was roughly towelling Kel's short hair dry as the girl squire sat on the edge of her bed.

"What would you do if…if you knew something that had the potential to hurt someone? Would you tell them?"

Lalasa stared for a moment. "You aren't talking about Master Neal, are you?" Kel shook her head.

"Worse than that." she mumbled, twisting her hands in her lap.

"Well…" Lalasa said slowly, "if they didn't need to know then I wouldn't tell them. There is no use hurting someone for no reason." she cocked her head at Kel. "Is that the answer you wished for, my lady?"

"Yes," she answered, relieved. "Yes, thank you, Lalasa." Kel took a breath to say something further, and sneezed violently. A whole string of Yamani curses rang in her mind as the other woman rose again.

"I had best send for a healer, my lady."

"Not -" she began, but was seized by a fit of sneezing, above which she could just hear Lalasa ask a page to find Neal. 

Thankfully, he took long enough that Kel was able to change into hose and a tunic. She was just brushing back her damp brown hair when Neal's unmistakeable haughty voice enquired from outside the door "You decent, Kel?"

"Yes, come in," she inwardly swore at the falter in her voice. Of all the times she needed to be calm! Composing herself, Kel turned to greet her friend. They were dressed identically in black, though she noticed that his garments were a lot finer than her own. _Dukedom. _Kel observed with a shiver. The difference between their stations was made abundantly clear as Kel and Neal stood in silent gridlock. One day, her best friend would be Duke of Queenscove, while the only way that Kel would own property was if she married.

"I hate to say it, Kel, but you do deserve this," Neal observed quietly as Lalasa gathered her embroidery and backed out of the room. Kel's only answer was to sneeze again.

"Gods curse it!" she snarled, and Neal looked at her in surprise. Her tenseness was due to his presence, and this cold was making her irritable. "I hate being ill," she grumbled as Neal tried to hide a smirk. He held out a glowing hand which he placed on Kel's forehead, and almost instantly, she relaxed.

A few minutes later, the sneezing had stopped and Kel felt much better. "Thanks," she said awkwardly as Neal raised an eyebrow.

"You've got something on your mind. And I'm willing to bet a gold noble to a copper that it has something to do with that friendly little exchange with Cleon earlier."

She fixed him with a piercing glare. "Eavesdropping?"

"In a thunderstorm? You forget, Kel, my room looks out over the Queen's Garden." Kel longed to wipe the satisfied smirk off his face, but she knew it was through anger at herself. She had even told Dom that Neal would be in his room! Why then, when Cleon had led her to the gardens, did she not remember that Neal would be able to see them?

"So, will you tell me?"

Kel sighed and gestured for him to sit down, which he did - on the floor - where she joined him. "You have to promise me that you won't say a word to Cleon, or anyone, for that matter. It's not for my sake," she said quickly, noticing his enquiring look, "it could hurt several people who really don't deserve it."

Neal, appearing slightly sceptical, nodded slowly and listened as Kel related the conversation of earlier. "And I think that was what he was trying to say…I know a lot of noblemen have mistresses, but I couldn't do that to Ermelian…or to myself." 

He frowned deeply and fixed his gaze on the slate-tiled floor, murmuring. "Doesn't he know who he sounds like?"

"Sorry?" Kel asked, confused by Neal's lacklustre response. He blinked a few times before looking back at her apologetically.

"Cleon…never told you about his father, did he?" Kel shook her head. "Leonel was a drunk and a womaniser. He had a lot of mistresses," his eyes darted around the room furtively before he leaned in close to her and dropped his voice to just above a whisper. "Rumour has it that one of them bore Cleon, and another his sister, but Mariah - the Lady of Kennan - refused to confirm anything. The court gossips said it was because Mariah was barren, but I don't believe a word of it - Leonel needed no encouragement for his eyes to wander."

Kel stared at him, aghast. "How do you know all this?" Neal looked very grim.

"I lived my life at court. You hear a lot of things." he pulled away to rest his head against the mattress. "Cleon hated his father for the longest time, but now it seems like he inherited more than just his father's looks." Neal was scrutinising her face for any clue as to her feelings, but Kel hid her disgust behind a bland mask.

She felt numb. Kel could understand why Cleon had never told her about his father - had she been in his position, she probably would have done the same - but the fact that he was making the same mistakes…She had longed to believe that what Cleon had said earlier was an accident; just a poorly-considered accident. But somehow, knowing this information, Kel couldn't see how it could be anything but a conscious decision on his part.

****

Yet more trouble in…well, it's not quite paradise, is it? Never mind, review and we'll see how this progresses!


	10. Whilst Love Lies Bleeding

**A/N: **Wow, it's been a while, hasn't it? Five years, in fact. And since I'm here and since there are 225 reviews asking me to update, I thought I would oblige (finally). If you're still following, I admire your dedication and of course, love and worship you. My writing style has changed a bit - for the better, I hope - and there won't be any more songfic chapters, but it's still Kel/Neal goodness all the way.

**Whilst Love Lies Bleeding**

Life in the palace continued on much as it had always done, despite the events of that week, and Kel couldn't help but marvel at the mundane, how it polished their grief like stones on a riverbed. She felt the loss of her friend acutely, and all the moreso for Neal's steady and wounded presence alongside her. Since that first night, he had not spent another in her room, and instead retired to his own quarters, scrubbed clean of the evidence and the blood that she was sure he could still see despite the maids' best efforts. It was for the best, she had decided, aware that neither of them were capable of making mature and rational decisions in the present climate, not to mention the gossip that edged tantalizingly close to scandalous.

It did not mean, however, that they didn't see one another; their days when not occupied by their Knight Masters were spent on the courts or else in quiet contemplation of some book or other. Whilst it wasn't Kel's preference to spend her free time reading when she could be jousting, she understood that neither was it Neal's to square against her with the sword or the glaive. She worried about him too much to let him alone, knowing that his solitude wouldn't be spent as it had been, writing soppy love poems to the objects of his affection, but instead dwelling on the part he had played in Yuki's death.

Neither of them were entirely sure what that part was, exactly. Kel didn't think it had anything to do with her friend, personally, and suspected that Yuki had simply been there to surprise Neal when she was assassinated. To slight the Yamanis, there was no better way short of targeting Shinko herself, and she was much too well-guarded for that. Of course, if one of her kinswomen could be murdered on palace grounds, it meant that none of them were safe, that the protection had failed. It also meant that the perpetrator was someone who knew their way around the palace.

All of this she mused on as they drew closer to the funeral. They hadn't mentioned it between them since Neal's outburst in her room, but Kel was quite sure he would be among those attending. Whatever his own private feelings on the matter, his honour would not allow him to shirk the duty.

Kel rose that morning as it dawned appropriately grey and dreary, and began her day as she always did, with a glaive dance. Then, once clean and scrubbed, she dressed once more in black – this time as a nod to relative finery that her parents had afforded her on their visit to court. They were also here for the funeral, and would not let their daughter attend in her daily mourning clothes. Not for one of her oldest friends.

There was a knock at the door, and she opened it to her mother, resplendent in her own mourning garb like an ethereal angel of death. 'It is almost time, my dear,' Ilane told her, mild in both tone and expression though Kel was all too aware that her mother was concerned about her.

'I know, Mama. I just need to fetch Neal first.' Ilane looked worried. 'You go ahead, I will join you shortly,' she promised, ushering the older woman out and locking the door behind them.

'Be careful, Keladry,' her mother cautioned gently, and for a moment Kel wasn't sure whether she meant with her reputation or her emotions. Either would have been valid.

'Neal, are you ready?' she called through the thick wood of his door a few minutes later, standing self-consciously in the hallway as servants and nobles alike passed by feigning disinterest. There was a groan from inside the room, and she frowned, resting a hand indecisively on the door handle a moment, before turning it, and letting herself into the room.

Neal sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his bony knees, and face buried in his hands. When he looked up it was to reveal tired, bruised eyes sunken into pale skin. She pressed her lips together and closed the door, crossing the room to kneel in front of him. 'Torturing yourself will not bring her back,' she informed her friend, not unkindly. 'We need to find out why this happened and what it means.' Neal was paying a bit more attention to her now, though he still looked dull with grief.

She narrowed her usually dreamy eyes and rose, placing her hands beneath his arms and – in a rare display of strength – lifting him up. 'But first you need to get dressed and pull yourself together,' she said sternly, steering him in the direction of his dressing room. 'We have a funeral to attend, and no matter what our feelings on the matter, it is our _duty_.' Opening his closet, she selected his best tunic and hose, shoving them at him briskly. Fortunately he was clear of morning ablutions and had simply neglected to swap his robe for more appropriate attire.

'_Our_ feelings?' he repeated, and she stared at him until he got the idea that he was supposed to support his own weight, before letting him go and stepping away.

'Get changed, and for Mithros' sake do something with your hair.'

Neal obeyed in an almost childlike manner, dazedly accepting the items and concealing himself behind the screen to change, whilst Kel paced on the other side like an unexpected drill sergeant. When he reappeared, he was pawing at his brown hair bemusedly, and Kel had him sit as she went at him with a wetted comb.

'Just like second year,' he suddenly piped up, and managed a smile. Kel matched it, until he continued. 'When you were in love with me.'

Cold seeped through her chest, even as a blush rose in her cheeks. 'Very funny,' she answered, trying for nonchalant, though she doubted it was even close. 'There.' Kel combed his hair back from the widow's peak, noticing it was getting long, but thought it looked quite acceptable given what she'd had to work with. 'You're ready. We need to go.'

Neal clutched her arm, their gazes meeting too intensely for the moment, and she held her breath. 'You were in love with me, weren't you?' he asked, the desperation clear in his voice, though what purpose an affirmation would serve she wasn't sure. She had thought she loved him, but childish infatuation wasn't the same as love and it wouldn't warm him now.

'Neal –'

'I know,' he sighed, bowed his head and rose, but did not release her. 'We need to go.' Instead, he tucked her hand into his elbow and escorted her from the room like one of his ladies in a fine gown. As the approached the chamber in which the funeral would take place, only Kel could feel how tight his grip on her truly was.

The funeral itself was fitting, though it dragged interminably. The Yamanis were not preoccupied by death, and instead sought to celebrate life, but they were certainly sticklers for ceremony. This was not the first of it's kind to be held; Yuki's body would travel by sea to her homeland and final resting place, her ashes to be scattered to the four winds as was their belief. For all those who could not or would not journey to the Isles, the funeral in Corus served as a memorial.

Neal was forcibly separated by their seating arrangements on arrival, though Kel wasn't sure that was an entirely bad thing. Kel and her family were seated close to the Princess as trusted advisers and confidants, as were her Yamani ladies. The whole lot of them, though they showed no outward emotion, were strained to Kel's eyes.

Once Yuki was laid to rest, the congregation filtered out, a select few following Shinko's tacit request to join the royal family in their drawing room. There they celebrated the life of Yukimi noh Daiomoru with stories and laughter and warmth; all the things that she had stood for. Kel was curled in an overstuffed armchair with a delicate glass cup of blossom tea, listening to Owen relate a practical joke their friend had pulled on Wyldon, causing his hair to turn blue for three whole days. Neal was sitting cross-legged at the foot of her chair, nursing a small brandy and staring into space.

'She said we were too similar,' he said suddenly, causing a lull in the conversation as everyone looked at him. 'That's a laugh, isn't it?' Neal continued bitterly, and at a glance from Shinko, Kel knew it was time to go.

'That's enough,' she muttered, rising and pulling him to his feet, straightening her tunic as she did so.

'Please excuse us, your majesties,' Kel said respectfully as she bowed to Shinko, Roald and his parents, a hand on Neal's back forcing him into a bow at the same time, causing him to almost spill his drink. 'Squire Nealan is still in shock.' They all looked sympathetic, and she knew he'd hate it, all too aware of what they were thinking.

Neal fell face first and fully dressed onto his bed when they reached his room. At a loss, Kel bustled around, closing the curtains against the dark night, and picking up clothes and books he'd discarded carelessly. A tidy environment wouldn't necessarily promote a tidy mind, but she was reluctant to just stand there waiting for him to break the silence.

When she looked up he had turned over and was watching her. 'Stay with me,' he whispered, eyes turned up to hers pleadingly.

'I don't –'

'Please,' he swallowed hard. 'Please, Kel.'

The girl sat down hesitantly on the edge of his bed, for the first time unable to reconcile herself with the idea of her best friend, and lost as to his motives. One moment he was fine, and the next there was this strange tension between them where none had existed before. It was during one such contemplation that she felt the warmth of his palm against her cheek, sliding to the back of her neck. Kel didn't resist as he guided her forward, their lips meeting with a hesitance that was all her. Neal kissed her deeply with a desire, or even desperation, that translated into urgency; his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her in close. She could taste the sweet and bitter of the alcohol and _him_, her lips parting easily to his silent demand, allowing herself to be consumed by the heat between them.


End file.
